


Pressure Building

by sunaddicted



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bickering, Character Study, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Drunken Confessions, Eye Trauma, F/F, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, POV Alternating, Permanent Injury, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s04e22 No Man's Land, Relationship Study, Sleepy Cuddles, Teasing, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-07 01:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16844785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: "I'm unhappy that they're happy without me"





	Pressure Building

**Author's Note:**

> Usually the more I love writing a fic, the less my readers enjoy it so, I'm expecting this to flop rather spectacularly lol

_Pressure Building_

_i._

_Harrowing Love_

Jim had taken to bed enough people to notice when his lovers weren't paying particularly much attention to him and let their minds wander in the direction of their true heart's desire, while they got lost in the physical sensations he was able to give them - Jim didn't really mind: that sort of thing usually happened only when he picked someone up from a bar, a soul as drunk and lonely as he was. 

But having Oswald Cobblepot under him, gasping wordlessly for another name - someone who had spit in his face again and again, crawling back to him only when he needed help and Oswald would always take him in, in the end - while he was there, worshipping his skin with loving kisses and going against every single one of his principles… not that they mattered much in the aftermath of the bombings and the city's fall but they had been important to him.

They _still_ were. 

It just was that Oswald had stood by him during the past few weeks and even if his methods were questionable, he got things done: he sent his goons to help with operations; he shared weapons and medical resources; he offered favourable deals when it came to the exchanging of food or people with particular skill sets - in a few words, Oswald was a better ally Jim could have hoped for and the evenings they spent together, planning and drinking, hadn't helped him to keep repressed the odd fascination that he had always felt for the other man.

On the contrary, it had been nurtured and nourished by their newfound closeness and knowing that Oswald wasn't truly with him in such an intimate moment _hurt._

“Ow” Oswald blinked up at Jim at the sudden and painful bite to his collarbone that had managed to snap him out of the hazy pleasure swirling in his brain “What was that for?”

“You're thinking about _him_ ”

“Who?”

“Don't” Jim growled: Oswald had always been painfully honest with him, he couldn't stand it if he decided to start lying while they were entwined closer than they had ever been, their skin sticking together with sweat and smeared bodily fluids “Don't think about him”

It was _hard_ not to. 

Oswald sighed and fisted Jim's hair, longer than he usually kept it but Oswald supposed that finding a proper barber exactly wasn't one of the other man's priorities; he guided him into a kiss, trying to distract the both of them as he licked into Jim's mouth that tasted of rusty blood and the salted water Oswald had made him use to disinfect the cut on the inside of his cheek.

It made him wonder about how often Edward's mouth would taste of blood, remembering the vivid crimson splattering on the other's face and the mischievous glinting in his eyes, barely muted by the thickness of his glasses: Edward had always been a bit of a messy killer, despite how fastidiously neat he was in every other aspect of his life. 

“Please”

“I'm trying”

“Try harder” Jim pleaded, breathless as he once again brought their lips together and surprised by how effortlessly they fit together, so easily connected despite everything that had happened between them - the heavy burden they shared, history that once had shaped the city and would do so again. Jim cupped Oswald's hips and tilted them up, holding onto him for dear life as he thrust in the other's body, spurred on by an ugly mix of love and hatred and irritation and pleasure that had all knotted together low in his belly, churning and growing - slowly pushing him closer to the edge.

Another shock of sharp teeth lit up Oswald's mind and he arched his neck, torn between wanting more and getting Jim to stop before he could leave a mark on his skin “James” his voice was vibrating, warning - needy. 

“Tonight you're _mine_ , Oswald”

A moan fell from his lips when a particularly well-aimed thrust hit his prostate and made the base of his spine tremble like jelly as his balls tightened in their sack, becoming heavier and swollen: he was so _close_ \- so close to spilling himself between their bellies and leave a searing mark on the other's skin that could never be washed away, no matter how harshly Jim would scrub himself in the shower “You usually aren't this possessive” Oswald wasn't proud to admit it, but it wasn't the first time he had thought of Edward while they had sex - Jim had never seemed to mind before and even if it was a rotten thing to do to the both of them, Oswald had ran with it and let his imagination do its dirty job; it wasn't that Oswald found Jim unattractive, his mind just couldn't help circling back to the man he had loved and who in turn had destroyed him. 

It was toxic and addictive. 

And Oswald had never been any good at kicking addictions in the arse - he was good only at adding more and more to an ever-growing list of habits he could have used living without. 

“You usually aren't this…” - _lost_ \- “distracted”

It was true. 

It probably had a lot to do with the fact that Edward was currently occupying the room next to theirs, most certainly able to hear their moans and gasps as he recuperated from the feat of resurrection Dr Strange had performed on Edward and Lee's corpses “I'm sorry” he murmured, looking up into the other's eyes to watch his face as he clamped his muscles down around the other's shaft, drinking in the pleasure that briefly changed the shape of his features and chased the sternness away, leaving behind only a single crease of tension between his pinched eyebrows. 

It was breathtaking. 

It made Oswald's heart beat in his chest in a haunting rhythm that he wanted to forget how it felt like because that frantic fluttering against his ribcage was a birdsong his body has intoned for only another man before and it had been one of the worst mistakes in his life. 

_I won't let love weaken me again_. 

Oswald couldn't afford it, not with the city in shambles and his hold upon it was shaky at best: together with Jim, he was playing a very complicated game of Risiko with the territories Gotham was torn into - a game that demanded a pound of flesh and a pint of blood for every mistake they made, no matter how seemingly small and insignificant. Distractions could cost them - and those they were trying to protect - their lives and then who would be left to resurrect Gotham from its ashes?

“I'm close”

“Me too” Oswald admitted, sneaking one hand between their bodies to stroke himself, hissing when his calluses brushed over the tender foreskin that almost was too sensitive for him to endure “Come on, Jim" he spurred him on, shivering underneath the other man, encouraging him to thrust harder and faster with every cell in his body “Come on, I need _you_ ”

“Yes, you need _me_ ”

Oswald nodded and pushed his hips up, matching the rhythm he had become so familiar with in the last few encounters they had had; it was shockingly easy: despite not having as much experience as most people of his age had when it came to sex, Oswald was pretty sure that couples usually didn't fall into such perfectly tuned harmony in the span of a few weeks. It was a thought that made his heart soar higher and his lungs ache with the erratic contractions of his ribcage “I need _you_ ” in more ways than he could be bothered to even admit to himself, as tightly strung as he was - ready to snap. 

He was waiting for the right moment - for the faltering thrusting of the other man to become a prelude to orgasm. 

Jim sobbed as pleasure prevailed over the emotions twisted together with his innards and he buried his face in Oswald's neck as he came, teeth going back to worry the spot he had nibbled at a few minutes before while Oswald shook and came apart at the seams under his weight. Jim rolled away when he felt Oswald's hand let go of his cock, clearly done riding the waves of his own orgasm, to avoid hurting him; he didn't go too far, he just curled up into the other man to enjoy his warmth as he tried to get his breathing pattern back under control “I'm sorry”

Oswald frowned but he didn't open his eyes “What for?”

“Pushing you”

“It's okay”

“It's not”

Oswald sighed and turned on his side, reaching out to flick a strand of hair out of Jim's sweaty forehead “It's okay, it shouldn't… it shouldn't happen” he was the one who was being unfair between the two of them.

“Do you still love him?”

“No”

Jim blinked, totally unprepared to receive a negative answer to his question: he had expected Oswald to deflect and point out how one didn't just fall out of love with their soulmate but he had been wrong - Oswald didn't love Edward anymore and he believed him, he knew the other man too well to dismiss the signs that indicated he was telling what he believed to be the truth.

Whether Oswald was lying to himself, though, Jim couldn't say “Why then?”

“I don't know” Oswald admitted “I suppose part of my mind keeps getting stuck in the ‘what if's, no matter how unlikely they are to become true”

Jim could understand that, he'd felt just the same for countless of things in his life because he just wasn't capable of quickly letting go and move on. So, he just slid closer and tugged up the blankets “Rest, we have plans to go over later”

_ii._

_Bloody Bones_

“Are you alright?”

The stupidity of the question would have made Oswald sneer, if twitching even a single muscle of his face hadn't hurt like he was being poked at with a searing hot iron. Consequence of either an explosion or a bullet that had been fired too close to his head, a flying piece of glass had embedded itself in his eye, which had been bandaged up as best as Dr Thompkins had been able to manage with limited resources, and until the healing process started it would be impossible to accurately predict how bad the damage was: the only thing Lee seemed to be confident about was that he wouldn't entirely lose the eye and no matter how meagre, Oswald was going to take it as a win “I'm fine”

“Are you sure? Because you don't need to downplay it if you're in pain”

Oswald sighed heavily “I'm sure, Ed. What I really need is for you to stop hovering and making me nervous” he bluntly told to the other man; it was still weird being allied to Edward _for good_ , without any looming threats of mutiny at the horizon: for all intent and purposes, they seemed to be back to being friends and while it was different than the first time, it also felt incredibly familiar. 

“It's not my intention to make you feel worse”

“I know”

“It's just that you look really shitty right now” Edward immediately piped up, a tense grin tightening the skin over too prominent cheekbones; even if he lived in the Penguin's territory, food still wasn't much and even Oswald Cobblepot privileged women and children in such a situation “And if I know you as well as I think I do, you're due another nice dose of painkillers but you're being stubborn about taking them”

“Did I ever tell you how irritating you are?”

“Plenty of times but it balances out with all the times you've told me I'm brilliant so, I'm not getting too hung up over it”

“Edward Nygma, when did you grow up?”

Edward rolled his eyes at the tease “Haha, I'm dying of laughter here: only Joker's gas would have managed to do a better job”

The snarky reply was impossible to resist to and Oswald started laughing despite of the pain that was torturing him, stabbing right into his brain through the mangled cavity of his eye “Damn you” he hissed amidst bouts of fizzling out laughter. 

“Oh shit, you're crying blood”

“Damn you twice, then”

He probably shouldn't have chuckled at those words but what was he supposed to do - tie himself into knots because he had made the other man laugh? They had both needed it to diffuse some of the tension in the air “Shit, come here” he encouraged, even if he was the one to move closer to the other man, a handkerchief already in hand so that he could wipe away the rosy trails of blood left behind by tears on Oswald's cheek “Your bandage is ruined but I'm pretty sure we can't take it off for a while to avoid dust, germs or sunlight harming your eye further and compromising its recovery”

“Sunlight?” Oswald snorted “This is Gotham”

“A rare occurrence, I agree”

“So, what now?”

Edward shrugged “You go around looking like a zombie from a bad horror movie” he teased even if it wasn't true at all: he was going to find Lee and ask her whether there was anything she could do for Oswald “Do you want painkillers, then?”

“Will you leave me alone if I say yes?”

“You won't hear a peep from me until tomorrow”

“The sweetest deal I've been offered in a while” Oswald attempted to grin but he was afraid it probably had come out more as a grimace - oh well, he had tried “Then yes, I would love it if you brought me enough painkillers to put me to sleep” he didn't have a concussion: he could pass out for however long he wanted and nobody could tell him that he shouldn't. 

Edward smiled and stood up “I'll be back in five” he reassured “Please, don't disappear on me”

Oswald didn't point out that he wouldn't have been able to slither away and find a secluded spot where to rest a bit, no matter how badly he was craving the peace and quiet only solitude could grant him; his body was heavy, a burden upon his soul, and it felt as if the pain had been steadily sopping away the parvence of energy that adrenaline had been giving him. Oswald sighed and leaned back against the crumbling wall, a burst of annoyance thundered through his mind as he vividly pictured the irreparable way concrete dust was staining his jacket: there wouldn't be another solution but tossing it away. 

“Oswald…”

“If you ask me whether I'm fine, I'm going to use the last bullet in my gun for you” Oswald interrupted the other man before he could say anything more than his name “And believe me, I can aim right at the middle of your forehead even blind from one eye” he added because he already was tired of people thinking that the injury wasn't just a minor setback: he wouldn't let it change his life or make him useless while he recuperated - no, the Penguin still had it in him. 

Jim fondly shook his head at Oswald's prickly answer and sat down next to him on the makeshift infirmary bed before he put a chipped mug in the other's hands “I was merely going to apologise for the tea: it's black”

“Oh” well, now he felt silly for his tirade “That's alright: there isn't exactly enough sugar and milk to waste on tea” did he miss a properly fixed cuppa, though? Immensely “Thank you”

“Don't mention it” Jim reassured “Did Edward put you on edge?”

“He was just trying to be sweet, I think”

“You seem to be getting along well, everything considered”

Oswald shrugged and took a sip of his tea, too tired to predict where Jim exactly wanted to go with that particular observation, mind flashing back to a handful of weeks before and the possessive tone in Jim's voice while they had sex, anchored to one another as Gotham steadily crumbled around them - they were all dying; that was why they had decided to open fire on the military: smuggling and the black market weren't enough any more to keep them all alive, they _had_ to force a path out of the blockades that trapped them in. 

Mice on a sinking ship. 

“We really were close before the Isabelle Debacle” Oswald decided to answer in the end, unsure whether the name of that wench ot the tea was more bitter on his tongue “We have a natural connection” they gravitated towards one another without even realising it. 

“You never told me what went down between you two”

“Would you have cared to know before all this happened?” Before a ginger maniac had destroyed their home; before the chaos had pushed them together; before they had had to truly trust one another with everything they had left. 

Before they had fallen in bed together, again and again - looking for something hidden under feverish skin and quivering nerve endings. 

Jim grimaced “I guess not” he stole the mug from the other man and gulped down some of the drink, grimacing at the bitterness that grew stronger, the colder the tea became “This is awful”

“You overbrewed it”

“I don't think that's really what doomed this cup of tea” Jim drew a flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket and opened it with his teeth, so that he could pour a healthy dose of bourbon “There, fixed it”

“Are you completing your metamorphosis into Bullock right under my nose?” Oswald teased but he gratefully took the doctored drink; he was pretty sure that he shouldn't have been even looking at alcohol, let alone drinking some - but his eye had basically been gouged out and he wasn't going to turn some liquid comfort away. 

“I feel like that jab is directed more at my facial hair than at my drinking habits”

“You have no excuses not to shave: even if you can't find a disposable razor, you can always use a straight one - or a very sharp knife”

“And what about shaving cream?” Jim put his nose up in the air, purposefully imitating the snobbish expression he often saw on Oswald's face “Do you think this skin doesn't require any efforts to be this smooth?”

Oswald didn't know whether Jim had always been that funny or he had found his sense of humour amidst the despair that surrounded them - he just knew that he deeply appreciated it and already mourned its disappearance once things went back to normal. Because they had to: Gotham wasn't going to be a temple of ruins for forever, its citizens wouldn't stand for it. 

“Afraid that I won't kiss you any longer, if your skin feels less than sinfully soft?”

“Would you?” Jim asked, mildly bewildered about the fact that they were discussing the future so easily - as if what they had, shapeless and unlabelled as it was, could last out of the quarantine Jeremiah and the government had forced them into. 

“It depends. Are you going to grow a full beard?”

“I always wanted a moustache, actually”

Oswald let out an amused noise as the image settled in his mind's eye “I might still kiss you then, provided that you don't look completely ridiculous - though, I'm not letting you anywhere near my cock: can you imagine how badly it would tickle?”

At those brazen words, Jim promptly choked on air; the thought of Oswald giggling while he attempted to give him a blowjob was too hysterically hilarious for his brain to handle in an adult way. Though, the idea of the other man laughing during sex didn't make him feel as embarrassed as he thought it would have - instead, it just made Jim feel carefree and relaxed.

As if he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“Mind sharing your hilarious joke, Oswald?” Edward asked, dropping to sit in front of the other men on what little space was left on the bed, which really hadn't been designed to comfortably host three grown adults, and handed Oswald a small paper cup in which rattled alone a single tablet: it was only half the dose Oswald would have received under normal circumstances but no matter how painful the other's injury was, they couldn't afford the risk of running out of medication - especially considering that what little was produced in Gotham came either from Fries or Scarecrow's territories and nobody wanted to risk having any weird chemical mixed up with their ibuprofen. 

Oswald tossed it back gratefully with the last sip of his tea “It wasn't a joke: I just told him he couldn't blow me if he grew a moustache”

“Oswald!”

Edward snickered “There _is_ a joke: Jim Gordon with a moustache”

Oswald sighed dramatically “I wish”

“Are you seriously growing a moustache, Jimbo?”

Jim frowned “First of all, I think I would look really hot with one”

Edward snorted, exchanging an amused glance with Oswald at the expense of the other man “Sure, Jimbo: you'll look so hot that you'll have to hide your face if you want to get any work done”

“That was some of the meanest sarcasm that ever came out of your mouth”

“ _Secondly_ ” Jim raised his voice before Edward could get another retort in “Why aren't you freaking out at the implication of the two of us having sex?” He inquired but he immediately regretted it when he was stabbed with a pair of nearly identical expressions of disbelief - as if the dumbest question in the world had just tumbled past his lips.

“Everybody knows?” Oswald offered tentatively; he had thought that Jim had been aware of the fact - or had he truly been deaf to all teasing remarks and blind to the wiggling eyebrows whenever they were together in the same room?

“It's the worst kept secret in Gotham, Jimbo"

“What?”

“That's a really bad case of obliviousness”

“Shush, you don't have any room to talk” Oswald cowed Edward, a few words enough to remind him just how oblivious he could be despite reality staring at him in the face: Barbara had had to point out that he was in love with Edward and Oswald himself had been the one who had to try and make him see that Lee was only using him for as long as she needed. 

Despite everything, Oswald had really hated being proven right in that instance too; a part of him - one that genuinely wished Edward to be happy - hurt at the lost expression on the other's face when he had come back from death, only to remember how the supposed love of his life had literally gutted him.

Jim let out a wheezing noise, too focused on the revelation that their affair was public knowledge to pay any attention to the two villains’ bickering; in a twisted way, it sort of reminded him of the time he had woken up to their singing in Edward's apartment “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I honestly didn't think the GCPD finest needed me to point out all the clues?”

“Oh, Oswald. That was delightfully _nasty_ ”

_iii._

_Losing Game_

Their situation had gotten only marginally better after the shooting: it had roused the public indignation of the rest of the country and the government _had_ to give them something, if people rioting in the streets for the poor Americans unjustly quarantined was to be avoided - not that anyone actually cared about what happened in Gotham: they were just worried about history repeating itself in the future and eventually finding themselves in the same shoes the Gothamites were in. But the few resources they had been given weren't much and many necessities still had to be rationed and carefully accounted for, from toilet paper to flour. 

“Once this is over, I'm going to eat chicken waffles and cheesecake for a whole month” Oswald lamented, scowling hard as his monocle fell off of his face: he still hadn't completely gotten the hang out of how it could be worn comfortably and it annoyed him to no end once the relief of having retained most of his sight had faded. The definitive diagnosis could have been a lot worse: his vision from the injured eye was blurry and it darkened when he was particularly tired, but it was nothing a lense couldn't solve. 

He supposed he could have worn glasses but what was the point in them if the other eye was perfectly healthy? Besides, a monocle gave him a distinguished air - or it would, if it stayed in place like it was supposed to. 

“Fried or grilled?” Edward asked as he threw a two of hearts on the table with disdain, frowning at his hand as if the cards had come to life to personally stab him. 

“What?”

Jim picked up Edward's card and his own and tossed them both in his pile, grinning as the amount of points in his favour grew once again “The chicken” he told Oswald, tilting his head to the side as if it would help him to remember which cards of the trump suit had already been played “I say fried”

“Same here”

“Why, is there people who dare putting grilled chicken on waffles?”

“The health freaks always are around the corner” Edward glared at Jim as the other man once again swept up both their cards “Are you cheating?”

“You wish, Nygma. Then you wouldn't have to admit how crappy you are at this game”

Oswald pushed aside the cooking book he had been browsing through - it hadn't been one of his brightest ideas anyway, since they didn't have the necessary ingredients to cook most of those delicious dishes - and propped his elbows on the table, making himself comfortable to watch the game “Briscola, isn't it?”

“Yep” Jim satisfyingly popped the _p_ as he won another hand, the irritation on Edward's face one of the best things he had had the pleasure of seeing as of late - second only to the sight of Oswald masturbating in the shower, his body completely abandoned to the hot water and the caresses of his own hand. 

_That_ had really been a treat.

“How did you recognise this game so quickly?”

“My dearest Ed, I was neck-deep in the Italian mafia before you ever even contemplated killing a man out of jealousy”

Edward sniffled “It was an accident”

“How many times did you stab Dougherty?”

“Eleven”

Jim snorted “You don't accidentally stab someone _eleven_ times”

“I don't side with the police as a rule, but Jim is right”

“Stop ganging up on me” Edward complained “What does the Italian mafia have to do with a card game?” He inquired, mostly curious but also eager to shift the conversation topic back to a safer ground; he was fairly comfortable with discussing murder with Oswald - _obviously_ : they had gotten their hands dirty together more than once, afterall - but including Jim too in the discussion? It felt a little too much like confessing himself before getting carted off to Arkham.

And he found himself reluctant to let the past ruin the surprising camaraderie that they had fallen into; it was a fragile thing - even more fragile than the one he shared with Oswald because while there has been a point when they had gotten along, Edward was painfully aware that it had happened only because of Lee's influence and not because Jim had truly wanted to spend time with him.

In a way, what they had now was more genuine - _real_ : all the masks had fallen and there was nothing left to hide behind, they had to interact with one another's true selves and they went along better than anyone could have predicted. 

“It's one of the most popular card games in Italy” Oswald answered “Did Sofia teach you how to play?”

“My father did, actually” Jim corrected the other's assumption as he dealt the last hand “Not surprising, considering that my father and Falcone apparently were close. What about you?”

“Maroni, Fish and Falcone - they needed a fourth and I was conveniently there, minding my own business” listening in on their conversation to learn as much information about their operations as possible, memorizing and planning - Oswald had always hated being underestimated but there was no doubt that it had served him more than just well in the past.

Jim chuckled “No pressure, uh?”

Oswald grinned “Fish was shit at briscola: I made her win for the first time in five years, I think”

“Did you cheat?”

“No, Fish and I had a better team game than Falcone and Maroni did. And I counted cards” Oswald gently tapped Edward's temple “With the amazing memory you've got, I'm surprised you lost so spectacularly”

“Jimbo is a shitty teacher”

Jim raised his hands in a defensive manner “I taught you all the rules, the rest you have to pick up yourself Oh-Most-Clever-Man in Gotham” he teased, quickly counting his points while Oswald sorted through the other's meagre pile “Cappotto, gentlemen”

“What?”

“He wiped the floor with your sorry ass, that's what” Oswald gently nudged Edward out of the chair, taking his place and grabbing the deck so that he could give it a thorough shuffle “Get something to drink while I avenge you”

“Finally sharing your secret stash with us?”

Jim snorted but he kept to himself the remark about how Oswald had been gladly sharing his stash with him: there was no need to make the other man jealous. He observed Edward confidently move around what had been the former mayor's office - a room that he seemingly knew as well as the back of his hand - and retrieve without need of any directions the bottle of scotch Oswald kept there; witnessing how well Edward knew the other was startling and like in front of many other interactions between the two, Jim was left blinking in confusion as he tried to read them. 

Because if they had barely made sense when they were at odds, on the same side they were even more puzzling: it was like they didn't truly belong with one another but without each other they looked oddly incomplete. 

Jim didn't know what to do with that feeling so, he shoved it down and focused on the cards; he forced himself not to analyse their banter and just laughed along with them, downing one glass of burning liquor after the other and ignoring the way his head felt strangely light on his neck: he supposed that his body had lost a bit of its resilience to alcohol, even with Oswald he rarely indulged in more than one glass. 

Jim looked up from his hand of cards - high points he wouldn't be able to cash in, considering the lucky streak his adversary seemed to have encountered - and Edward didn't look much more sober than he felt: the younger man's face was slightly flushed and his eyes had a lucid finish to them that made him look as if he had just stopped crying. 

Oswald seemed quite collected instead but Jim wasn't sure he could read the other man well enough to notice the subtle clues of his body language - he just filled his eyes with how devastatingly attractive the other man was.

How devastatingly attractive they _both_ were. 

“Jimbo?”

He blinked, eyes burning with tiredness “Sorry?”

“It's your turn”

“Oh” Jim put the knight of diamonds on the table, a grimace twisting his lips as he watched Oswald swipe it up together with a worthless card “I zoned out”

“It's late”

Edward clicked his tongue “It's not that late, it's barely 10 PM”

“Already?”

“Don't you dare”

“What?”

Oswald glared at Jim, pointedly nodding towards the other's phone abandoned next to his elbow “It's too late for you to go back to the GCPD on your own: text Bullock and tell him you're staying the night”

“But…”

Oswald sighed heavily: why was he the only reasonable person around? “It's not safe” he reminded Jim firmly “You're too drunk to defend yourself in case someone attacks you” and while the other man clearly never factored in the possibility that people might want to kill him - despite the record of plenty of people who had wanted his head over the years - Oswald definitely did think about that and he couldn't let Jim's own obliviousness kill him “Text Bullock”

“It wouldn't be the first time I hear you shag, if you're concerned you're going to jump him” Edward quipped in with a grin. 

“I sincerely doubt he would be able to get it up right now”

“Yeah, me too” Jim sighed, blushing heavily as if a more lucid part of his brain realised what they were talking about so freely - and in front of Edward to boot. 

Definitely too drunk to go back home on his own, Oswald was right. 

He observed as the other man collected the cards - they evidently weren't going to finish that match - and hobble around the office to grab a bottle of water “Between the two of you, I want to see it emptied” Oswald ordered, gently snatching out of Edward's hand the scotch “I'm hogging the bathroom, I trust that you both can find your way to bed”

* * *

Oswald regretted having left the two men to their own devices as soon as he walked into the bedroom “Can you tell me what exactly is this?” He waved a hand in a questioning gesture that embraced the bed and and the two men snuggling in it, cocooned in the blankets on the right side of the mattress - clearly leaving open for him his preferred one. 

Edward burrowed deeper under the covers and into Jim's chest in a blatant sign that he had heard Oswald's question but wasn't going to grace him with an answer, stubbornly broadcasting with his whole body that he wouldn't let himself be moved from the spot he had claimed. 

Jim only offered the other man a sheepish grin and the half shrug of a shoulder. 

He hadn't drunk enough for a headache to be plaguing him, but Oswald could feel one closing its jaws around his temples anyway and he briefly massaged them, taking a deep breath as he decided what exactly he should do - because no matter how he put it, having his former crush and his current lover in the same bed didn't sound particularly clever or healthy. 

But it wasn't like they were going to do more than sleeping, right?

And from what he could discern, both Edward and Jim were wearing their interpretations of pyjamas - a flannel shirt and yoga pants for the former and tank top and briefs for the latter. 

“The lights” Edward whined in displeasure. 

Oswald sighed: it seemed like he didn't have much choice. He just hoped that he wouldn't regret it in the morning when they would inevitably wake up in the most uncomfortable positions “If one of you hogs the blankets, I'm kicking you out”

“You already know I don't hog them, Oswald”

“Same here”

“I thought you two never…”

Edward rolled his eyes “Where do you think he slept when he was recovering at mine - on the couch?”

“I thought _you_ slept on the couch”

“I'm too tall”

Before they could start bickering, Oswald dealt Edward a swift kick to the shin while he leaned over and flicked Jim's forehead “If I hear another word coming from either of you, I'll slowly suffocate you with my pillow - is that clear?” When no answer came, Oswald let out a satisfied noise and finally let his eyes slip closed.

Sleep didn't wait to abduct his consciousness and Oswald barely stirred when Jim kissed him goodbye at dawn - most likely ready to head back at the GCPD and make sure that nothing bad had happened during the night - and he just squirmed closer to Edward. 

It felt… _natural._

_iv._

_Chit Chat_

Between the two of them, it usually was Jim who asked all the questions because he apparently hadn't learnt yet that the less he knew, the better off he would be - especially in Gotham where nasty surprises awaited at every corner. 

It looked like he would have to break his own code, though: for a couple of days, Jim had been antsy and distracted and it was making Harvey feel as if he was the proverbial elephant in a china shop; he hated having to walk on eggshells whenever he was around his best friend, it reminded him too much of a time when Jim had been in a much darker place - just out of prison, cast out of the GCPD and hunting down monsters while the weight of a baby that had never seen the world weighted heavily on his heart. 

No, Harvey didn't want to see Jim that depressed and lost ever again and if butting his nose in the other's turmoil was the only way to prevent it, he would gladly grill Jim until he spilled his guts - not that it seemed it would take much persuading to get him to talk: as soon as Harvey asked him what was on his mind, Jim was already dropping in the seat in front of him for their impromptu heart-to-heart. 

“I slept with Oswald and Nygma”

Coffee - or the swill that passed as such, courtesy of one Poison Ivy's concoctions - was supposed to go down, right? Harvey coughed harshly as he inhaled some of the drink “At the same time?” He managed to ask in a strained voice, once he had managed to get his breath back. 

“Yeah”

“Kinky” the tease slipped out completely unbidden, his brain-to-mouth filter failing him as usual “I thought you were screwing just Penguin” and that had already been quite surprising, even if not as much as it would have been if he had fallen in bed with Cobblepot _before_ screwing Falcone's daughter. 

Jim really had a taste for dangerous, hadn't he?

“What?” Jim shook his head in mild panic as Harvey's insinuation filled his mind until any other thought had been momentarily chased away by the idea of the three of them having sex “God, no! I meant it literally!” Jim hissed, thrusting a bottle of water in Harvey's hand to save him from a premature death by coffee inhalation and consequent suffocation; he didn't really know for how long it had been in his drawer but water couldn't go bad, right? And Harvey definitely deserved to drink stale water after what he had dared to think, no matter the fact that the exactly same thought had been hunting his mind. 

A _threesome_. 

With Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma. 

“I wasn't judging”

“You almost died”

Harvey arched an eyebrow “Brother, that's not the kind of information you can just spring on someone while they're drinking their coffee”

“It's not my fault if you have your head in the gutter” Jim sniffed and looked down at his crossed arms: a sign of closure, or so Lee had been fond of telling him whenever he had assumed the position.

“So, you had a sleepover with Penguin and the Riddler”

Jim rolled his eyes “Must you make it sound so childish?” He sighed but he finally dragged his eyes back up to his friend “Yes, I had a sleepover with them”

“And that's bothering you”

“Yes”

“Because…” making Jim talk was worse than using pliers to get out an infected tooth: it was a long, painful, exhausting and rarely gratifying process - and he didn't even have alcohol on hand to make the proceedings a little smoother. 

Goddamn Jeremiah Valeska to tell and back - and preferably to hell again. 

“Because…” Jim pursed his lips and shrugged. 

“My friend, I need you to work with me here. I'm not a mind reader and I can't solve your problems if you don't use your pretty words” Harvey pointed out, sliding his chair closer “Was it nice?”

It had definitely been warm and comfortable, despite the fact that Nygma moved around during the night he hadn't received any fists in his face ot knees to his groin and Oswald's soft snoring was so familiar by that point that Jim couldn't help finding it soothing - so, had it been nice? “Yes”

“Did you wake up in a weird position?”

Jim shook his head: when he had blinked himself awake, Edward was curled over Oswald's hunched back - the guarded stance didn't abandon him even when he was asleep - and he had actually been giving his back to the both of them, only a foot had been plastered to Nygma’s shin to keep it warm “No and they weren't awake when I left so, you know, we didn't have any awkward conversations”

But something must have happened, Harvey was sure of it: if Jim wasn't so bothered by the mornings after he had had sex with Penguin, why had an innocent sleepover thrown Jim for such a loop? “And you left just like that?” Maybe the other men were pissed about Jim sneaking out on them - though, he couldn't imagine the reason why they would be if nothing sexual had really happened. 

“Of course not: I kissed Oswald goodbye”

Harvey reminded himself that it wasn't the time to unpack that sentence - he didn't think that Jim was ready to realise that fuckbuddies usually weren't so lovey-dovey and disgustingly domestic - and moved on “What about Nygma?”

“I told you it was platonic, I obviously didn't kiss Edward”

 _Edward_.

Harvey blinked as his synapses fired up “But you _wanted_ to” he sentenced, studying the blush that was spreading on Jim's face and his wither his knuckles were becoming “That's what has had you wandering around like a cat that lost its kittens”

“Where do you find such charming metaphors?” Jim snorted but the amusement quickly faded away as worry resurfaced once again “Yes, I think… I think I wanted to”

“I can't really blame you”

“What?”

Harvey shrugged “If we forget for a moment that he's batshit crazy and that his riddles could murder me with boredom and annoyance faster than any bullet, he's hot” he started raising his fingers to better prove his points “Sharp cheekbones, legs for miles and an ass to die for - what's there not to like?”

He didn't know what was worse: the fact that he agreed with the points Harvey had just made or the fact that he was jealous at the knowledge of the other man looking at Edward _that_ way - as if he even had any right to be jealous! “Why did you never approach him, then?”

“Because, unlike you, I admire the crazy ones from afar instead of tapping them”

“You used to sleep with Fish”

“Whether she was insane or not is open for debate, whereas we _know_ that Nygma’s not all there” Harvey argued “But that's a discussion for another day. So, you think you wanted to kiss him goodbye too: do you have the feels? Or do you just want to fuck him and get it out of your system?”

Jim thought about the surprisingly easy camaraderie between them that came back to life as they took turns cheering up and helping Oswald through his recovery; he thought about the countless times he had watched the two of them bicker and an hidden part of him had wished he didn't feel so left out of their inside jokes; he thought about kissing Oswald and wondering about whether he would be slowly cast aside now that Oswald and Edward were mending their friendship and looked closer than ever before, sewn together tighter after the rollercoaster of betrayal and devotion they had cycled through; he thought about the weight of Edward's body in his arms and the warmth of his breath against the thin cotton of his undershirt; he thought about the vulnerability on his face that morning, when he had bent down to bestow a kiss on a sleepy Oswald and the thought of doing the same to Edward had felt so natural that for a moment his whole body had seized up in panic “ _Shit_ ”

That didn't promise too well “The feels?”

“The feels”

“And for Penguin?”

Jim didn't need to think too hard to answer that follow up question “Same”

Why did his friend always complicate his life more than it already was? “I actually don't have any advice to give” Harvey admitted, pensively petting his beard “I mean, things could go extraordinarily well or catastrophically bad for you - which do you wanna hear first?”

“Let's go with the catastrophically bad first”

“Such an optimist, aren't you?”

Jim rolled his eyes and kicked the leg of Harvey's chair “Talk”

“Alright, alright. If Penguin discovers you've got the hots for his former crush, you're dead”

“Death sounds like a pretty sweet deal at the moment” it would get him out of that shitty situation without actually facing it or any of its consequences “What's the happier scenario, then?” Jim asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay: he didn't need to fuel his brain with any hopes, it was better if he pushed all of his feelings in a dark well at the back of his mind and pray that one day they wouldn't be there anymore - but still, he wanted to listen to what Harvey had to say. 

“The Penguin is still in love with Nygma and Nygma miraculously feels for the both of you…”

“And what - we're all together like in some kind of hippie dream?” Jim snarked, forcing himself to reject the idea before it could take root in his mind: it was ridiculous and it would never work, especially once Gotham managed to get back on its feet, everything finally back to normal, and he would have to change his ways because nobody would accept a police Capitan with a criminal - let alone _two._

“It's not hippie shit, you moron” Harvey reached over and flicked Jim's forehead in a chiding manner “It would be a polyamorous relationship and no, it has nothing to do with Mormons” he reassured before his friend could start freaking about having to convert or something like that.

“Is it even legal?”

“It definitely isn't if you're already thinking about marriage but who actually has the authority to tell you how many people at the same time you can screw and proclaim yourself to be in love with? No- _fucking_ -one”

Harvey's speech made sense but, whether he liked it or not, Jim was self-conscious about what people would think or say - and he knew that few would be as supportive and seemingly imperturbable as Harvey was. Jim put his head in his hands, too ashamed of the emotions agitating inside his eyes to let the other man see them; his relationship - was it even a relationship? They had never sat down and talked it out - had been doomed from the start but to add another person to their already complicated situation would only make everything crumble faster “I'm screwed”

“Yeah” Harvey agreed because he tried to be an honest friend as much as he could “You can't solve this without talking with them, you know?”

“I know”

 _Doubly screwed_ , then.

* * *

“I need to talk to you about a potentially uncomfortable subject”

Those weren't exact the words that Lee had longed to hear on a busy Monday morning but she supposed there wasn't much she could do about it: either she listened to whatever was fluttering around Nygma's brain or she kicked him out of her clinic, thriving under the Sirens’ protection “More uncomfortable than talking about those two times we've had sex?” she inquired, not raising her eyes from the inventory she was going over - she couldn't quite help wrinkling her nose in disgust, though: it hadn't exactly been her proudest moment, using the other's confused attraction to get him to help her restoring the Narrows. 

She had learnt her lesson, though: a knife to the gut and a resurrection later, Lee had no intentions to resort again to such lowly means to get what she needed - no matter how good the cause was: she had hurt them both in her attempt at helping people and she had severely damaged the friendship they had barely managed to recover during their teamup.

Plus, she had quite the strong feeling that Barbara would behead her, if she ever cheated on her just because she wouldn't rob a bank herself and Lee wasn't so sure that Penguin would waste another favour on Strange just to resurrect her _again_. 

“Possibly” Edward answered, sitting in one of the visitors chairs after a moment of deliberation and no, he wasn't going to think about all the sick people who had sat in it before him and their germs that probably were crawling all over his body in that moment “It's a sentimental matter”

“You're in love with Penguin”

“I…” Edward frowned “Yes but that's not the point” he conceded in the end “I don't need your help to sort through my feelings for Oswald”

"The evidence begs to differ” Lee deadpanned “But go on, the suspense is killing me” she urged before he could start ranting about Oswald: why didn't they kiss already and spare her from all the whining that their mutual pining redirected towards her?

“I wish”

“No, you actually don't because otherwise you would be out of people to talk to about your problems”

“Foxy…”

“...is a man and a straight one at that: how helpful would he really be?” Lee propped her chin on the palms of her hands, regarding Edward with curiosity as he clearly struggled to find an argument to contradict her “I'm listening: talk”

As if it was so easy; Edward bit on his lower lip, twisting and turning the words in his mind until he was reasonably confident that they made some sense “I slept with Oswald and Jimbo”

 _That_ Lee hadn't been anticipating “Slept as in you had sex or actually slept?”

“Actually slept” Edward clarified, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a nervous gesture that he wished he had left behind in his school years, but that had unluckily followed him well into adulthood and didn't seem like something he could ever really shake away “He's a bit of a cuddler, I hadn't expected it”

“You don't need to tell me that”

“Right. See what I meant when I said it might be an uncomfortable subject?”

“I'm dating the first woman he almost took to the altar and who repeatedly tried to kill me out of jealousy” Lee reminded Edward “It doesn't get much more uncomfortable than that” not that they had really spent much time angsting over it: it was in the past and both Lee and Barbara were quite over James Gordon - enough to find his disastrous dating life quite entertaining and amusing “So, you had a nice cuddly pile” Lee prompted when Edward seemed more engaged in biting through his lower lip rather than moving the conversation forward: she was willing to listen but she didn't exactly have hours to spare for chitchat. 

“Yes and… uh… and that sort of made me realise how close we've been growing in the past few months?” since Oswald's eye had been injured and the other man definitely hadn't needed his current lover and his former best friend to snap at one another; it hadn't been the easiest attitude to adopt at the beginning but Edward had been grovelling and trying to regain Oswald's friendship so, he had swallowed his rage down and made friends with Jim - only that it had been way too easy to restart the tentative friendship they had managed to build during his days at the GCPD and the puppy crush he had had on Gordon back then, it had suddenly blown out of proportions and into hopeless infatuation. 

Right when he was just starting to make peace with the fact that yes, he was bloody in love with Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot but the man had clearly moved on to greener pastures - in which he _also_ was interested. 

Edward face-planted on the desk. 

“Please, don't give yourself a concussion: I promise that it won't help to get your thoughts in order” she reproached with a sympathetic edge in her voice: the situation seemed to be rather complicated “Do you like them both?”

“I thought it was glaringly obvious”

“Less sass and more answers or I'm kicking you out”

“Evil witch”

“Bite me”

“I believe Miss Keane would make a great imitation of the Dentist, if I dared” the memory was enough to make his jaw ache with flare-ups of phantom pain. 

The comment tore a delighted smile from Lee “Yes, she absolutely would”

Edward turned his head to the side, so that he could look up at her “What do I do?” every time he saw Oswald and Jim kiss, it made something deep inside him twinge with misery “I'm unhappy that they're happy without me”

“That sounds really shitty” Lee sentenced “But at least you're admitting you feel that way” there definitely was potential for some character growth but Lee was quite done trying to nurse broken men back to their feet and Edward was old enough that he didn't need her to hold his hand, if he wanted to make some steps towards being less of a shitty person “There isn't much you can do, especially if you have no idea about how they feel about you” Lee personally doubted that Jim would ever look at Edward twice but Oswald…

Oswald had desperately loved him once and Lee knew from first-hand experience that feelings of that depth didn't just disappear in a puff of smoke: a part of them - their echoes and remembrance - would always dwell in the shadow of the heart. What she couldn't confidently tell was whether Edward would have the ability to bring them back to the surface or if Oswald would let him do it after his badly he had been burnt. 

Still, Lee thought that Edward definitely had more chances with the Penguin than with the Captain of the GCPD he once had sent to prison on fabricated proofs - even if his standards seemed to have changed a little, considering he hadn't had any qualms about taking Sofia Falcone or Penguin to bed. 

“Who would love a freakshow like me?”

“Oswald did”

“And look how far away I've pushed him from me!”

Lee sighed: it was the truth, she couldn't really deny it “He asked Strange to bring you back to life and let's face it, you weren't exactly more useful than I am” maybe it was an unpleasant fact but a true one nonetheless: in the aftermath of Jeremiah's bombings, Oswald had needed a doctor - not another chaos maker.

But still, Edward was alive.

It _had_ to count for something. 

Penguin never did anything out of a whim, even a reaction that seemed the most natural and instinctive was part of a carefully planned course of action that would eventually lead Penguin to the most favourable outcome; it was the only way to make himself invulnerable - to avoid the falls from grace that happened whenever he let chance take over the wheel. 

“The problem is that I want them both” Edward admitted “I don't think I could be happy with just one of them - especially if I'm the reason for their breakup. I…” Edward sighed and hit his head again on the tabletop “I want l the three of us together because it makes sense”

“How so?”

Edward shrugged “We just… balance one another out pretty well” they fit somehow, despite the fact that they were the mismatched pieces of different puzzles.

“I'll be honest and tell you I don't really see it but if that's what you want…” Lee steepled her fingers in front of her mouth, trying to decide whether she really had any good advice to give or if she would only encourage the other man to leap into a hopeless endeavour “Hold your horses for a while: if there's something to be conflicted about, there is one person Oswald will turn to”

“Barbara”

Lee nodded “Barbara” despite a troubled stretch of time between them, her girlfriend and Penguin seemed to have found harmony once again; Lee didn't even try to understand their friendship, she just knew that it was oddly constant even if they fought on a particularly frequent basis “And, as you know, I'm pretty close to her: I can investigate a little and come back to you with more information before you do something idiotic”

“Your faith in my ability to cock something up is, as always, extremely flattering”

“And don't you forget it. Now, shoo: I have a job to do”

* * *

Barbara allowed Oswald in her territory, in spite of her _no men_ rule, for a few reasons: first and foremost, without really knowing how the other man had done it, the Penguin still was the King of Gotham and that really wasn't the kind of powerful connection that she was willing to throw away in a time of need - she could set any skirmishes aside for the time being; secondly, Oswald had in hand the black market of alcohol and luxury food that both were quite necessary for the survival of her club - especially since they had struck an accord and he made her a price of favour; thirdly, she sometimes just needed the company of someone who understood her - Lee did but their interests were wildly different and she couldn't think of anyone else, besides Oswald, with whom she could talk and bitch about everything and everyone when she needed a light conversation to take her mind off of the difficulties the new Gotham imposed on her. 

Still, she preferred it when the other man let her know in advance if he planned a visit, _before_ strolling unannounced in her club “Ozzie, what can I do for you?” Barbara inquired as she perched herself on the stool next to the other's, hand already dipping behind the counter to retrieve a couple of glasses. 

“Do you still have some of the vermouth I got you last month?”

“Sure, which cocktail do you want?”

“None” Oswald waved his hand towards the ice machine “I'll drink it neat, on the rocks”

“Bold” Barbara hummed but she wasn't in the habit of telling clients whether they could drink something or not: she only cared about her profit “Is there something on your mind? Apart from the inevitable headaches that the crown upon your head brings you”

“Poetic” Oswald picked up his glass and raised it, toasting Barbara's fizzy prosecco “I'll drink to that but to answer to your question, yes: there is something on my mind and it's of an extremely… personal nature”

Well, wasn't that quite interesting? Barbara was immediately ready to forgive the lack of forewarning on the other's part “Oh, Ozzie, you know I am a grave of secrets”

“And we both know you'll tell all about this to your better half - how is Dr Thompkins doing, by the way?” he deflected, not quite ready to start pouring his guts out to Barbara: he needed more than one drink in his bloodstream to do that. 

Barbara indulged Oswald, letting him set the pace of their conversation which she knew to be the best way to get the man talking; afterall, Oswald wouldn't have come to her if he still was debating about whether he wanted to confide in her or not: she just needed to be patient “She's doing great, saving lives and pampering me like I deserve. What about our dear old Jim?”

“He hasn't been shot in a week, I can't complain”

“Truly an exceptional feat if you consider his track record” Barbara wiggled her eyebrows “What do you threaten him with to make him actually take care of his own stupid ass?”

“Believe it or not but I don't have to do any threatening” Oswald admitted, a thin ribbon of satisfaction unfurling in his belly - he probably shouldn't have put much significance in such a small thing but Oswald couldn't help thinking that it was… _something_ “I think that being on the other side when I got injured maybe taught him some of the worry and anxiety that his stupidity has often imposed on the people who hold him dear”

“It sounds pretty serious”

It was - at least on Oswald's part and he thought that Jim felt equally serious about him. But there was no way to predict what would happen once Gotham was restored to its former glory and what a mix of Jim's morals and self-sacrificing streak would make him do “It sounds serious, yes. But to be honest, I'm trying to keep my feet well-grounded: afterall, we are who we are and Jim can't really deal with that”

Barbara nodded in approval: they sort of were living in a parallel universe, held in a pocket of reality of their own in which Jim clearly didn't feel the pressure to abide to his usual black-and-white child-like vision of the world - but it wasn't a permanent situation and she wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly remembered that who Oswald really was, once things got back to normal “It's clever of you”

“My heart got broken one too many times, I suppose” the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips was tight and bitter. 

Which Barbara obviously noticed: trouble in paradise? It seemed unlikely, considering how cautious Oswald had admitted to be in his relationship with Jim - it _had_ to do with with feelings of some kind, though: that smile had been too telling and if it hadn't been relevant to the conversation Oswald wanted to have with her, he wouldn't have let her see it - his poker face was definitely getting better and one day, nobody would be able to read what kind of thoughts dwelled behind those sea-green eyes. 

“I can hear your brain whizzing with curiosity”

Barbara grinned, not at all bothered about having been caught “Can you blame me?”

“No, I did throw the proverbial stone and his my hand”

“Heart matters sort of are my specialty, you know?”

“Oh, when did you get your degree as a surgeon?”

The snarky reply made Barbara burst into laughter: she loved Oswald's sense of humour, dark and cutting like a lovingly sharpened knife “There really is no need for a degree: if a heart stops beating, then there's no more problems to solve”

“I'm sure Dr Thompkins will have something to say about your methods”

Barbara pouted “She takes that Hippocratic Oath of hers very seriously”

“If I were you, I would be quite grateful about that since it's the only reason why your pretty head is still attached to your neck” if she hadn't been a bleeding heart, Oswald was sure that Lee would have murdered Barbara long before getting together; they hadn't always exactly been on the best of terms before they had figured out that they were better off sucking faces rather than try to maim one another, a development Oswald had been immediately happy to learn about and yes, it partly was because two of Jim's exes were made unavailable with one strike and ensured that the other's attention didn't wander back to them. 

Ironically, Oswald himself was guilty of a wandering mind: as sudden as the crack of thunder, Edward Nygma had popped back into his field of attention and waking up wrapped in his arms had reawakened in him all of those ashya's desires and crumpled feelings that he had tried to leave at the bottom of the harbour, a bullet embedded in his guts. 

And now he found himself pathetically in love not with just one, but _two_ men who had hurt him more than enough in the past. 

If his mother had known just how unlucky he would be in his romantic endeavours with the same sex, maybe she would have spoken a little less venomously about the hussies she had imagined flocking to him - or maybe she would have locked him under a glass dome to keep him safe from heartbreak.

Yes, that definitely sounded like the most probable outcome. 

“Not that sitting here quietly with you and drinking isn't some serious quality time but you did come here for a reason” Barbara piped up and topped up Oswald's glass “Come on, unburden yourself: you'll feel better afterwards”

“Because you'll give me amazing and priceless advice?”

“No promises but bitching about your problems always uplifts your spirits a little so, there's that”

Oswald took a long breath and an even longer sip of vermouth: Barbara was right, venting always helped and sometimes it also put a situation into a new and fresh perspective for him to consider - it really wasn't a waste of time. 

Quite the contrary, in fact. 

“I'm in love”

“With Jim”

“And Edward”

Definitely a new development that Barbara hadn't seen coming but as she took in the new bit of information, she couldn't say that she was taken completely by surprise: those three could be seen together more often than not and it probably didn't even begin to cover the total amount of time they spent in one another's companies, considering that Nygma lived at Oswald's - a true squatter, if she had ever known one - and that Jim spent _a lot_ of his nights there to canoodle with his little bird “Messy”

“Yes, you can say that” messier than his heart could handle “I can't have them both”

“Why not? Treat yourself, Ozzie: you deserve all the dick you want”

Oswald wrinkled his nose at the crudeness of her statement but he let it drop in order to keep discussing the issue; now that he had started talking, he found himself quite reluctant to stop and craved the relief that confiding into Barbara would provide “In what twisted universe would I be so lucky that the men I'm interested in agreed to a _ménage à trois_?”

“The same twisted universe in which something happened that brought back to life your feelings for Nygma and after some time made you entertain the idea that the three of you together could be happy” Barbara immediately retorted, taking the very convenient opening to snoop that Oswald had left her “Give me all the details”

He rolled his eyes but her perceptiveness was one of the reasons why Oswald had elected Barbara as his confidante: there was no need for redundancy, she could follow his train of thought and reasoning as easily as someone able to read minds could “It was nothing monumental”

“Still important enough for you to realise that you want your happily ever after with two of Gotham's biggest dumbasses”

Oswald was sure that he was supposed to feel offended in Edward and Jim's stead but they really could be quite oblivious and painfully emotionally constipated “I'm a moronsexual, am I not?”

“I'm afraid that the diagnosis is quite correct but at least we know that one of those morons can use his dick”

“I'm not comparing notes about Jim's performance with you”

“You don't need to: the way you walk after a night of passion does all the talking” she teased, a Cheshire grin blossoming on her lips as Oswald became visibly flustered by her words “Nothing to be ashamed about, Ozzie: once we had lunch at my parents' and I couldn't sit without everything _throbbing_ ”

“Please, _stop_ ” Oswald implored in a squeaky voice - time to move on the conversation before she ran her mouth again and he self-combusted out of sheer embarrassment: he was fine with talking about feelings but sex? That was quite a private matter that he never wanted to discuss with anyone else but his partners “Anyway, a couple of nights ago we got drunk and since it was late, Jim stayed the night and he let Edward in our bed because he apparently didn't feel like sleeping alone”

“That's less sexy than I thought it would be”

“I told you it wasn't anything monumental”

Barbara arched her eyebrow “Are you for real? I'm going to speak about Jim because I know him well: the man doesn't let people cuddle up to him just because they're feeling lonely, Oswald. I'm sure that you have noticed nobody touches Jim unless he wants them to, he doesn't allow himself to seek physical contact with just anyone - hell, he hardly seeks it even from the people he knows will give it to him without holding it over his head” she pointed out “How many times do you have to reach out because he just can't do it and clams up?”

“Fairly often” Oswald answered automatically, even as his brain whirred rather frantically to read all the implications behind that little fact Barbara had reminded him of and that he hadn't considered while agonising over his rather depressing sentimental situation; mainly that was because Oswald wasn't particularly bothered by having to be more forthcoming between the two of them when it came to displays of physical affection: he understood that both the military and the police academy hadn't exactly been good grounds for Jim to indulge into his more affectionate side. 

“Do you really think he would snuggle with Nygma with no reason, then?”

“No, he wouldn't” Oswald couldn't really afford the luxury of _hoping_ but…

“I'm not saying that he's quite at the same point as you are” Barbara hurried to cool Oswald off a little “But he's not indifferent either: he must feel something”

Right. 

Barbara was right - still, it was a rosier vision of the situation than the one he had had just a handful of minutes before “It could just be friendship”

“Could be” she agreed “But at least it's something” certainly not enough to jump into action but it was a detail that begged to be paid attention to because while it might never evolve past simple friendship, it could also be the basis for something more - Barbara had seen weirder things happen in Gotham, the three if them ending up in a happy relationship wouldn't even rank in her top ten list.

“This was quite a productive talk” it had definitely wielded more fruits than Oswald had expected but to “I'll see what I can do about those weapons you needed” anyone else would have probably frowned upon the blatant rewarding and exchanging of favours between friends but it just worked for himself and Barbara and Oswald didn't see why he should have changed the way they interacted, just because they didn't behave like friends typically did: the fundamental thing was that they understood each other. 

“Thank you, Ozzie” Barbara chirped, pouring the last of the vermouth in the other's glass “Now, let's talk about serious things” by which she obviously meant something light and inconsequential they could bitch about to relax and unwind from the constant pressure that surviving in their ruined city put on their shoulders because they couldn't afford snapping underneath it.

Because no matter how people were ready to get rid of them during the good times, whenever a disaster happened and anyone else panicked and fell to pieces, they became the backbone of the city - one made of steel that wouldn't crumple even under the hardest blow. 

_v._

_Inebriated Revelations_

“You're going to work yourself into an early grave” Oswald couldn't keep the worry out of his voice, it was a thick wedge in his throat that was slowly choking him and that he couldn't swallow; he reached over with a tentative hand and carded his fingers through Jim's hair, slightly darker because of the sweat that was dampening it “You're not going to do any good to the city if you're exhausted. Why don't you stay and catch some very much needed rest?” He hated seeing the heavy and swollen dark bags under Jim's eyes, red and dry - clearly irritated by the lack of sleep. When no answer came, Oswald swallowed again and it _hurt_ “I promise I won't keep you up” Oswald joked but it sounded strained to his own ears, even half-drowned as it was by the frantic beating of his heart. 

Jim closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask in the tenderness of the other's touch for a moment - it was all he could have “Jeremiah's resurfacing has caused a lot of unrest” on top if everything else he had to worry about, a ginger maniac threatening to destroy what little order he had managed to impose back on the city was the last thing Jim had needed.

But that was just Gotham, wasn't it? There always was something lurking in the dark, ready to jump out at the least favourable moment.

“Even Jeremiah Valeska sleeps”

“And that's the only thing that keeps me a step ahead of him”

Oswald frowned “ _Us_ ” the other man always was so determined to shoulder all responsibility; he had thought he had cured him a little of that attitude but it evidently was too deeply ingrained to effectively uproot in the matter of months “You're not alone, Jim”

“For now” Jim sat up, he had to get dressed and leave “We both know things will change when Gotham is rebuilt” they had already started to change: with every passing day, Oswald and Edward had been growing impossibly closer and Jim _knew_ that he was the only obstacle standing between the two of them; Oswald looked up at Edward with a kind of adoration that almost was too much even to witness and the other man paid it back with almost frightening focus.

They would never make the perfect couple with all of their bickering and fighting but Jim knew they could make one another happy.

He just had to be the bigger person and step out, allowing Oswald to open himself up to the other man and finally have what he had wished for so long because they had a _real_ chance; they were on the same side and once things went back to normal, they could keep being together and the terrorise the underworld with the amount of power they could wield, whereas he would have to work against them on the other side of the fence, shackled to his desk at the GCPD by his morals and principles he just couldn't change: Jim loved them both but he was a cop - admittedly not a very good one as of late - and he would die as one, he would never be able to switch sides and join them. 

How could a relationship between them work when they had to navigate so much red tape?

They would only end up resenting one another. 

Underneath the creased blankets that still smelled of sex, Oswald clenched his hands together in an attempt at keeping himself from falling apart: once again, he wasn't enough to keep close someone he loved - it was as if a curse had been cast upon him, condemning him to periodically lose everything he held dear. 

It wasn't _fair_. 

“Things don't have to change” Oswald murmured “We are working together towards the same goal but our fundamental dynamics haven't changed, Jim: you're trying to save people and resurrect the GCPD, while I'm profiting from a critical situation” he raised his eyes and looked at the other man - angry and heartbroken “I'm here because I want to be one of the shaping hands of the city I'm going to rule; I prefer order to chaos because I'm a gangster and a businessman and I know I can't build a criminal empire without infrastructures; I'm feeding the people because I need backing up - nothing of what I've done since Valeska put us in this situation has been done _for_ you, Jim: I'm driven by my motives just like you are” and maybe Jim had realised that and reminded himself that he possibly couldn't date someone like him. 

A _monster._

“I know”

“Why are you doing this, then?”

_Why are you leaving?_

Jim pursed his lips and looked away “I need to focus on Gotham”

“You're already focusing on this goddamned city more than anyone else”

“And it's not enough, is it?” Jim pointed out “I've barely done any progress in the last few weeks”

“ _We_ ” Oswald spat out “We are a team, Jim: stop being a self-centered ass for a second, will you?” He tugged at the shirt that had gotten lost in the sheets when Jim had undressed him; he usually wasn't very comfortable with nudity but the other man had always made him feel safe and attractive though, in that moment, he only felt… _vulnerable_ “We are doing everything we can, Jim. Jeremiah's resurfacing is an unfortunate development that has led to minor setbacks - I do realise that” he wasn't any happier than Jim was: the young man scared him just as much as Jerome had “But I also realise that we won't take care of this problem if we're exhausted: he's incredibly smart and he knows which buttons to push in order to make you run around like a headless chicken, trying to save lives while his real plan develops in the shadows” it wouldn't be the first time a villain exploited Jim's hero complex to distract him from the real deal. 

“What do you propose I do, then - let people die while we sit at a table and discuss possibilities?” Jim asked, bitterness dripping from the edges of every word: he couldn't play with people as if they were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard, unlike Oswald whose strengths were manipulation and strategizing; Jim tackled the first problem he could see, he didn't waste any time wondering about hidden motives when lives were in danger - maybe he should have, just like Oswald told him, but he had already seen too many people die to stand aside and do nothing. 

“You wouldn't be capable of doing it even if you wanted to” Oswald rolled his eyes: Jim really didn't give him enough credit “What I am suggesting is that we properly take advantage of our alliance: while we reason on the overarching plan, my men and yours will take care of the more imminent problems that will undoubtedly arise” he explained, wondering a little about how Jim hadn't thought of that course of action: he was far from stupid - he supposed that the stress of the situation had clouded some of the man's judgement “Bullock can lead the operations: he's your right hand man, I know how much you trust him, and my men _will_ obey him if I give the order”

“You have that much confidence in your reign of terror?”

“Don't talk about my methods if you don't understand them”

“What's there to understand?”

Oswald arched an eyebrow “Plenty, Jim. Thankfully, you don't have any aspirations to the throne of the criminal underworld or you would find yourself at the bottom of the harbour before you could say _help me God_ ”

“Like it happened to you?” Even as the words still tumbled out if his mouth and before he could see the expression of hurt in the other's face, Jim realised how much of a low blow he had dealt; he pursed his lips, an apology trapped right behind his teeth - eager to be freed and said out aloud. But he couldn't do it, not if he truly wanted Oswald to slowly detach himself from their relationship and focus on what was best for him.

On the future he could have with Edward. 

Jim bit the tip of his tongue and stomped heavily on the feelings swirling in his mind, even while nausea rolled thickly in his stomach at the thought of seeing Oswald and Edward together - happy and free of his toxic presence in their lives. 

_You're the real virus, Jim: you seep into people's lives until you destroy them._

Oswald didn't know what to retort to that blatant provocation; he was trying to close the growing distance between them but Jim seemed determined to make the gap larger, until he could feel the bond between them stretch impossibly thin and twinge with pain that echoed along his heartstrings and cut his breath short. 

And then he realised that Jim didn't want him to try and make things better. 

He just wanted to _leave._

Oswald clenched his jaws, steeling himself: he wouldn't break down in front of the other man and let him see just how badly their breaking up was affecting him - if it could even be considered as such, considering how careful they had always been about not labelling what they had: it certainly made it easier for Jim to pull it apart “Consider my offer” Oswald just said in the end, getting out of bed: he suddenly couldn't stand anymore breathing in their mixed scents or sitting amidst the sheets they had rumpled and warmed up with the shared heat of their bodies - it was too much, everything felt like sandpaper cruelly rubbed on a gaping wound. He pulled on his boxers before he handed Jim his tie; he had not-so-secretly appreciated that Jim still wore one, even if it was a sad strip of polyester, despite the chaos that reigned in Gotham “And remember that you're not alone: when you decide on a course of action, I'll be here”

The message was clear: Oswald wouldn't let their personal issues come between their alliance “I know” Jim looped the tie around his neck and started fumbling with it, his fingers not the best at knotting it without a mirror to offer a better perspective.

“Let me” Oswald gently swatted the other's hands away and deftly took care of the tie, the motions so natural that he could have executed them perfectly even with his eyes closed “There you go”

“Thank you” those words meant more than what lay beneath the surface. 

_Thank you for helping me._

_Thank you for standing by my side._

_Thank you for loving me._

Oswald needed Jim to leave - just as fervently as he had wished he would stay. He patted the other's chest once, digits clinging to the fabric of his jacket in a dragged out caress while he aborted the kiss he wanted to bestow on Jim's lips before he even could stand on his tiptoes and bring their mouths closer - he didn't need that kind of memory to haunt him “I'll see you at the heads’ meeting next week - don't get shot: be there”

Jim had never thought that someone taking a step back could feel so monumental “I'll try. You know me: it's better if I don't make any promises”

“ _Try_ ” Oswald intimated as he pulled his robe on - it smelled of Edward, as if the other man had stolen it while he wasn't at home “I'll walk you out”

“You don't need to”

“I'm not going back to bed, anyway”

Jim rolled his eyes “You say that I work too much but you clearly do the same”

Oswald would let the other man believe that work was the reason why he wasn't staying in bed; what good would it do, telling the man that he was the culprit? Things had gone down unexpectedly civilly between them and he wasn't quite eager to bring to the table tension that they didn't need - no, he could hurt quietly and let Jim take comfort in the small lie by omission.

“Jim, you're not staying?” Edward popped his headphones off, letting them slide around his neck when the man walked into the living room fully dressed and looking like he was ready to go back to work; Oswald followed him, wrapped up in one of those robes of his that would always make Edward think about comfort and almost-kisses in front of the fireplace even when the man looked closed off like in that moment - had they fought? Edward purposefully isolated himself when they disappeared together into the bedroom - first, because it hurt too much not being with them and second, it was creepy even for his standards to listen in on sex he very much wanted to join in - but that meant that he hadn't heard anything that could explain the subtle distance between them and, somehow, he doubted that asking them would lead to anything good.

_How he hated not knowing._

Unbeknownst to Edward, though, the expression on his face was quite open and Jim hadn't really realised that was walking out on _both_ of them until that moment and it hurt even if he really had never had Edward - all they had were conversations and awkward cuddling under Oswald's pensive gaze that had made Jim feel encouraged and under scrutiny at the same time “Too much work to do” Jim offered in an apologetic voice, trying to smile but feeling like the skin stretched on features was going to rupture under the strain - bloody shreds dangling off of his bones to uncover the quivering pinks and reds of the human flesh.

Edward frowned “Anything we can help with?”

Jim shook his head “No. No, I'll see you at the next meeting alright?” even if Edward technically wasn't the head of anything or even oswalds right hand man, he still had a seat at the table. 

“That's more than a week from now” it had never happened that Jim stayed away for so long “What happened?”

“Jeremiah happened”

“And we understand that you feel the need to focus on that” Oswald stepped in the conversation before Edward could ask more questions: there was no use in forcing Jim to stay when he needed space; he pushed him closer to the door “Take one of my men as security when you get back home safely”

It was the least he could do, wasn't it? Jim nodded as he looked down into Oswald's blue eyes, knowing that they would never be that close again “I will” he promised before stepping out into the maze of the the repurposed City Hall.

“Oswald, what happened?”

“ _He left_ ”

* * *

Oswald startled when a pair of strong hands landed on his shoulders “Stop sneaking up on me, Ed!” He scowled but couldn't help relaxing in those massaging fingers, firmly digging into the knotted muscles and soothing over inflamed nerves “One of these days, you're going to give me a heart attack and I'd rather leave the land of the living in a way more befitting of my image and status”

“Dramatic until the end, then?” Edward teased and gave a last squeeze to Oswald's shoulders: giving massages when the recipient was still wearing clothes wasn't exactly pleasant, it made his digits burn because of the friction “Come on, dinner is ready”

“Are you joking - didn't we eat a little ago?”

“You've been networking with your black market dealer for the whole afternoon, Oswald: it's 8pm” Edward pointed out, leaning over the man to flick the folder in front of him closed. Since Jim had left and drastically reduced the time they spent together, Oswald had started working even more than before and Edward felt utterly useless because he didn't know what to do to make the other man feel better - part of him despairing at the thought that he alone clearly wasn't enough for Oswald “It will get cold, if we don't go”

Oswald sighed and, resigned to having to abandon his desk, he slid his monocle in the pocket of his jacket “What did you make?” Dinner rarely was more interesting than lunch - he missed fresh meat so much, he had grown tired of canned food that couldn't be made better no matter how hard Edward tried. 

“Fish soup” Edward answered “The real thing”

“How?”

“We're taking our chances with the fish from the harbour”

Once upon a time, Oswald would have probably balked at the thought but after months of rating the same dishes over and over, something different sounded too enticing to turn his nose up at it - even if he knew by first-hand experience how filthy and polluted the waters of the harbour were “Doctor Thompkins will be ecstatic when we crawl to her because of food poisoning”

“I think she would prefer that to a stab or bullet wound” Edward hummed before he disappeared in the kitchen to retrieve the bowls he had already fixed up “It should have already cooled down a little”

Oswald poured them both a glass of wine “It smells good”

“Let's hope it tastes equally nice. I've used some spices, just in case the taste needed to be… smothered” Edward admitted with a chuckle “A toast to our health before we lose it thanks to my experiment?”

“Cheers”

The clinking of their glasses was the last noise for a little while. The soup was… interesting, it definitely had a fishy tang to it and Edward wasn't so sure he would have liked its unadulterated taste so, he mentally patted himself on the shoulder for thinking of adding pepper and paprika to it and Oswald looked pleased enough, considering his he hadn't stopped slurping at the soup after the first hesitant spoonful. Seeing the other man eat with such gusto was reassuring: in the last few weeks, Oswald had rarely allowed himself any distractions from work - even if it was to take care of basic bodily needs, such as eating or sleeping.

In a way, Edward felt like he had lost both of them; Jim was completely unattainable and those rare times they saw him, he was as distant as a star and Oswald had closed in on himself, entrenched in an impenetrable fortress. 

“I don't think I have ever seen you frown so darkly”

Edward blinked and forced himself to focus on the present “Just thinking”

“They must be quite unpleasant thoughts”

They were but he couldn't exactly tell Oswald that he was ruminating about how everything had fallen apart and he had lost the chance to… bask in their love: even if there had been no place for him in their hearts, at least he had been able to stay close to them and soak up the little physical affection they shared with him. 

Now he had _nothing_.

None of them did. 

“You're worrying me”

“Sorry”

Oswald let go of the spoon - it wasn't like there was much soup left, he had inhaled his bowl - and he reached out to caress one of Edward's hands, gently squeezed it in a comforting manner “Whatever is bothering you, you can talk to me”

He really couldn't but Edward turned his hand, so that he could squeeze Oswald's back “I know and I really appreciate it”

It was clear that further explanations weren't coming; Oswald didn't push for more, hoping that the reminder would stick in Edward's mind and that the other man would take him up on his offer when he felt ready “This wasn't half-back, considering where the fish came from”

“It would be even better if we survived the night” Edward grinned. 

“I propose we stay up, just in case one of us feels sick and we can immediately look for help without wasting any time” it wasn't as if they had regular jobs, they could always sleep in the morning once they made sure that they hadn't poisoned themselves with the food.

“Approved. Movie night?”

“Why not? The library keeps some videotapes, right?”

Edward nodded “Yes, though I'm not exactly in the mood to go and retrieve them” he admitted sheepishly: their apartment in City Hall was warm and dry, whereas outside it was cold and windy.

“I'm still the King of Gotham, Edward: I'll send someone out in the shitty weather”

“I apologise for forgetting about the immense power you wield, your majesty” Edward teased “It won't happen again” he added with a bat of his lashes, the corners if his mouth tightening in a barely repressed grin.

Oswald rolled his eyes and he playfully made a shooing motion with his hand “Go and take care of the plates while I provide us with entertainment for the evening” a bad movie would hopefully be the only eventful thing that happened to them before dawn broke out. 

_Hopefully._

* * *

“Did I ever tell you Strange put me in a cannibal's cell for punishment?”

Oswald snorted at the sudden information “No, but I'm not surprised”

“Cannibals are scary”

“Do you want me to change movie?” Oswald had never seen _Hannibal_ but it hadn't particularly unsettled him for the moment - probably because it also was true that he had cooked his own step siblings and eaten a pie stuffed full of human flesh to protect Martin so, he had enough experience with cannibalism to find it a lot less creepy than some of the things he had seen in Gotham “I don't know what else we've got left to watch but what are the odds that it's another movie about a cannibal?”

Edward shrugged: his mind was too hazy with alcohol to calculate the exact odds - talking about alcohol, where was the bottle of prosecco? “It's fine, I'll just sleep with you and I won't have nightmares about cannibals” he mumbled, squinting in the dark lightened up by the flickering screen of the television “Wine?”

“Finished”

“That's sad” Edward blinker his bleary eyes, lids feeling heavier than they had any right to “More?”

“I'm not letting you give yourself alcohol poisoning after we survived the fish”

“Did we?”

Oswald checked the time “It's almost 5 a.m. - I'd say we should have already felt the symptoms, if the flag was bad” he doubted they still were digesting the soup.

“Bed, then?”

It was sort of amazing how Edward's speech pattern broke down to single and short sentences when he was inebriated “Tired?”

Edward contemplated the question longer than his sober self would have but he was too drunk to be bothered by the slower reaction time of his brain “Yes”

“Me too” Oswald kissed the top of the other's head in a fond manner “Let's go to sleep”

“Your bed?”

“My bed” he reassured.

“No cannibals”

“Of course not” it should have been illegal for the other man to be so adorable; Oswald helped Edward up and kept his hands firmly clasped on his hipbones until he was sure the other man was steady “Okay?” He was wary of letting Edward go: he might not have been as inebriated as the other man was, but he certainly didn't have the energies to haul him off of the floor if he fell - or worse, to nurse him back to health if he broke his nose. 

“Okay”

“Are you sure?”

Edward pursed his lips “Yes. _Maybe_. I think so”

He didn't sound so sure but Oswald had to confide that Edward would be fine for the short walk to the bedroom; he didn't know what he would have done if they had been staying at the manor and he'd had to make the other man climb the stairs to reach the closest bed - he would have probably left him to curl up on the sofa “Alright. Nice and slow, we're not in any rush” Oswald reminded Edward, one hand hovering just under his elbow, ready to catch him in case his step faltered; thankfully, the other man didn't stumble even once and he safely landed on the mattress “Can you undress yourself?”

Could he? Yes.

Did he _want_ to? No. 

Edward shook his head, flushing because of the alcohol in his system and the image of the other's fingers methodically undressing him - unbuttoning his shirt and lowering the zip of his trousers, caressing every newly revealed inch of skin dotted with goosebumps; Edward shivered and, a little ashamed of his thoughts - Oswald was just trying to help, afterall: it was unfair to perve on him in that instance - he clumsily covered his eyes with his arm, ignoring the way the frame of his glasses dug in his face as he tried to hide the arousal he was sure was swirling in the depths of his pupils.

Oswald knew _all_ of him. 

In no way his desire would go unnoticed by the other man.

And Edward had worked too hard to avoid dumping it on Oswald or Jim, he wouldn't ruin everything just because he had drunk a little too much.

“Ed?”

“Huh?”

“If you raise your hips, I can help you with your trousers”

Uh, had Oswald already unzipped them? Edward didn't trust himself to keep up an uninterested façade so, he didn't look down to check and just did as Oswald had asked him to; the muscles of his thighs twitched as the fabric of his trousers dragged along his skin, ruffling the sparse hair there. 

“Shirt?”

That would imply sliding his arm off of his face. 

_Impossible._

“‘M keeping it”

“Let me unbutton your cuffs at least” Oswald didn't wait for a reply and he quickly took care of them and of the forest two buttons of his shirt, so that the collar wouldn't bother Edward while he slept “Get under the covers” he ordered, both fond and mildly exasperated by Edward's childish behaviour - though, the man was quicker to comply to his request than the previous times and Oswald worked together with him to make sure that he was tucked under the warm covers in as little time as possible, considering that Edward's flailing limbs were involved in the process “Give me a minute, I'm not going to sleep in my day clothes” Oswald reassured before the other man could ask him where he was going - because while Edward knew what he looked like under his suits just as well as Jim did, he had never gotten undressed in front of the other man and he still felt self-conscious at the idea if slowly baring himself to Edward's sharp gaze. 

Not to mention the fact that he was concerned about the other man somehow reading his twister and complicated feelings in the hesitant movements of his hands and the blush that surely would stain the arch of his cheekbones. 

Oswald sighed and changed quickly, a bit of his excitement dampened by the fact that the last time he had shared that bed with someone, it had been with Jim; he missed him fiercely - from his soft snoring to the firm touch of his hands, soothing and relaxing even when he was wound up tighter than a corkscrew. The sheets had been changed, they didn't smell of him - of them, _together_ \- anymore and the only thing that remained was Oswald's faint memory of Jim curled up on the same side Edward was occupying.

“You look sad”

“I am, I suppose”

Edward hummed, arms tentatively gathering Oswald closer to his chest; the man always looked so imposing in his suits, larger than life and invincible - the complete opposite to what he looked like in that moment, small and fragile “You miss Jim”

“I really do”

“Me too” Edward admitted, hiding his face in the other's hair; his chest was bubbling like a pot on the stove on the brink of boiling over and spilling a mess all over the kitchen - a mess that Edward didn't know how he would fix, if he let his alcohol-loosened tongue say the words trapped amidst his vocal cords. 

Oswald burrowed deeper in the other's embrace, taking as much comfort as he could “I liked seeing you getting along”

“Not jealous?”

Oh, if only Edward _knew_ “No. I…” he shook his head, pressed his forehead harder against the other's chest.

“You?” he needed Oswald to elaborate further - to say _more_ ; Edward's heart was hammering in his chest and cursed himself for drinking so much as he tried to put some distance between then, so that he could look down into Oswald's eyes: it already was difficult prying anything from the other man when he was in poses of all of his intellectual faculties - drunk, it was going to be impossible but he had to try “Go on. Please”

“I can't”

“ _Please_ ”

“I…” there must have been a reason why Edward wouldn't leave it alone but Oswald was so afraid of being burnt once again, while his heart already was trying to mend itself “I…” Edward's eyes were huge behind his glasses and Oswald wasn't sure whether his pupils were blown by adrenaline or the stimulation of alcohol - he just knew that he couldn't escape the plea buried in their dark depths “I love you”

Edward's heart missed a beat.

Then it started back again, more frantic than before. 

“Jim?”

Oswald lowered his eyes, ashamed of his feelings since the first time he had realised he had them - not because he thought they were _wrong_ , but because something buried deep together with the memory of Edward's horrified gaze upon learning about his love made him squirm and uneasy “I love him too” he admitted in a low voice. He was expecting Edward to clumsily push him away, to tell him just how twisted he was… how greedy. 

Maybe he would even throw a punch. 

He definitely wasn't expecting the kiss - hard, desperate, wet… it was one of the most unromantic kisses Oswald had ever had bestowed upon him in his whole life but he still clung to Edward's shoulders as he let the man take possession of his mouth, mind buzzing and running itself in circles as he wondered about what _that_ meant. 

But there would be time for words: for now, he just wanted to kiss Edward until he couldn't feel his lips any more.

_vi._

_Happy Ending_

“You're a dumbass”

“Why is everyone saying that?”

“Maybe because it's true?” Harvey pressed his scarf harder against the gunshot in Jim's shoulder, ignoring the other's pained noise gurgling in his throat to focus on stemming the blood flow “Penguin and Nygma are going to kill you”

The idea prompted another inarticulate noise from the younger man “Don't call them”

“Do you think they don't already know?” With how fast gossip tended to travel in Gotham and the web of spies they undoubtedly had spread out all over the city, Penguin and Nygma definitely already knew - hell, Harvey was ready to bet his hat on the possibility that the two criminals already were terrorizing everyone at the clinic and annoying the patience out of Lee “Don't worry about them now”

Jim breathed in harshly when he was jostled, the car stubbornly stuttering over the broken asphalt: he didn't need to look out of the window to know they had entered the Narrows; he didn't know whether to be relieved or not - the wound wasn't _that_ bad and even if the bullet was still inside, Jim had enough experience to know that it hadn't gotten lodged in the bone and while he did feel a little lightheaded, it wasn't enough to make him think he was suffering from serious blood loss. Still, Lee would look down at him with that resigned and vaguely annoyed expression on her face; Oswald and Edward would alternatively scold him like a little kid and smother him until he had been disinfected, stitched and drugged into passing out for the following eight hours or so; Barbara would torment him for forcing Lee to roll out of bed before midday, cutting short their morning cuddles - or sex, Jim didn't need to know the details. 

“Almost there”

“Don't let Oswald and Edward kill me”

Harvey snorted “Should I encourage them to kiss your boo-boo better, then?”

“NO!”

“Christ, stay down”

He definitely hadn't lost too much blood because Jim could still feel himself flush red at the mental image of the other two men kissing him - preferably not platonically, even if he was sure that Lee would kick them out if they dared to do anything remotely inappropriate while they were in her clinic “Don't tell them”

Harvey rolled his eyes and with his free hand he patted Jim's thigh “Of course I'm not going to air out your secret” no matter that Jim had spent the past few weeks looking grimmer than the Reaper and growing increasingly reckless; Jim clearly needed someone and while Harvey still wasn't exactly ecstatic about the fact that those someones belonged to Arkham, he cared more about Jim's happiness and health - both physical and mental.

For as long as Jim and Cobblepot has been in a relationship, his best friend had looked happier and more relaxed than he could remember seeing him as of late and that was what _mattered_. Harvey didn't understand why Jim had broken up with the mobster - alright, maybe the situation wasn't the easiest considering that he had gone and fallen in love with the insane beanpole too but that didn't mean he had to deprive himself of Penguin's affection, right?

Right. 

But it was Jim so, Harvey wasn't surprised: the man had a talent for compromising his own happiness. 

“Are they here?” Jim asked nervously when the car stopped - on the one hand, his stomach fluttered excitedly at the idea of seeing the two men again; on the other one, his heart ached at the thought of either of them looking at him with hurt in their eyes… he had never wanted to hurt them. 

“Penguin's car is here but there's nobody outside” it could have easily been just Nygma waiting for them - or maybe Cobblepot had sent a minion to the clinic to make sure that Jim would be alright without showing his face; Harvey couldn't really blame him if that was the case, since Jim's attitude had changed so quickly and the man hadn't even given him a chance to try and fix their relationship.

Not that there actually was anything to fix: Cobblepot and Jim were arse over teakettle in love with one another, they just had needed to have _one_ conversation about their respective feelings for Nygma and deal with whatever came out of it. 

“Alright, Jimbo: time to hold on to me”

It clearly was easier said than done but they were practiced enough to make a quick job of entering the clinic “Lee”

“Jim”

“Hello, Doc - any help?”

Lee arched an eyebrow “Was he shot in the leg?”

“Shoulder”

She shrugged and turned around, walking towards the open room of the emergency infirmary: no matter Oswald's threatening, she wasn't going to give Jim a room just because he had gotten shot _again_ “He can walk, then. It's his fault if Nygma and Penguin have been whining in my ears for the better part of an hour - it took you awfully long to get here: if his injury had been worse, he would be dead”

“Harv…”

“No, Jim. Don't start”

“But…”

“ _No_ ” Harvey tugged at the other man and followed Lee down the dingy corridor; he knew that both Penguin and Bruce Wayne siphoned a lot of money and resources in Lee's clinic, but they just.. they just didn't have much oxygen anymore: they needed to get out of the city soon, to tear down the trenches so that new air could come in before they all slowly died. 

Lee tossed them a teasing glance from above her shoulder “Afraid Jim?”

“ _They're going to kill me_ ”

“Yes, they are” she sing-songed. 

“You're not helping, Doc”

“JIM!”

As Oswald rushed up to him, Jim forgot all about the fact that he has broken up with the other man - that he was supposed to be strong, so that he could be happy with Edward “Oz…” he awkwardly flung his free arm around the younger man's waist, drawing him close to his chest even if that meant he was probably getting blood on Oswald's suit.

Not that Oswald cared in that moment; when he had gotten the news, he had felt like a steadily tightening noose had been looped around his neck: he hadn't been able to breathe, he hadn't been able to think… all he had known were the burning in his lungs and the thundering of his heartbeat in his temples. Thankfully, Edward had taken his face in his hands and forced his brain to focus before he hyperventilated and needed a doctor himself “You had me scared out of my goddamn mind” Oswald scolded before he leaned up and kissed Jim, letting out a small noise when the other man kissed back. 

“Oswald, dear, you should let Lee work”

“Ed?” Jim inquired, stumbling a little as Harvey moved away once Edward was next to him, clearly not eager to be caught in their embrace; he leaned into the other's lean body, trembling at the sheer relief that it was being sandwiched between them… he had missed them so badly. 

Edward exchanged a brief glance with Oswald and once he saw the encouragement swimming in those beautiful eyes, he gave a subtle nod and leaned down to bestow a light kiss on Jim's lips.

 _Finally_. 

“Fucking finally” Harvey groaned out loud.

“Truly” Lee concurred “Now, will you two let me sew your boyfriend up before he passes out?”

Jim blushed but he ignored them both for the moment, too enthralled by the other two men and by his lips tingling with their kisses - their taste mingled together on his mouth “Boyfriend?”

“Lover”

“Or partner, if you prefer”

Oswald caressed Jim's chest “If you'll have us”

The smile that overtook his face did so slowly, blooming deep in his soul “I don't think I've ever wanted anything else more”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, the ending is cheesy as fuck. 
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts on this ♡


End file.
